Artemis Fowl: The Universe Plot
by nabbi
Summary: This is when Artemis is directly involved in yet another sinister plot. But it is not what he expected...at all. Full summary inside. Hinted Arty/Min and Arty/OC, but not too much Arty/OC. No Artemis/Holly. Rated T for later chapters.
1. The Prologue

_AT LAST!! I update!!_

This is the edited version. Yay!

**Full Summary: **Artemis Fowl is quite content. Minerva is no longer his rival, and he feels a little something something towards her...Holly Short works with LEPRecon now, and Mulch Diggums is no longer a major criminal and occasionally helps Holly and Foaly while running his own business with Doodah Day. Artemis's twin brothers, Myles and Beckett, are rather annoying, but what else is to be expected? They're still cute. His parents have been successfully mind-wiped and believe Artemis was with Butler on a tour around the world for the past three years. But, of course, good things don't last, and Artemis needs to challenge himself because, obviously, he is a genius. He is just setting out with Minerva, insisting Butler he needn't come, to _challenge himself_ when he encounters a girl at the restaurant. He simply assumes she is nothing to be concerned about. But he is wrong. She comes with extremely important news that is deemed quite implausible by "Arty and the crew." But of course it is true. And Arty and the crew must stop it, or they are all in for it. _Big time._

**Disclaimer**: I don't own anything of the Artemis Fowl series that may or may not appear in this fanfiction because, in case you haven't heard, there's this guy named Eoin Colfer who happened to make all that up first.

Prologue

The voice of _The Traveler _was one that demanded attention when it was heard. Though it was barely audible, the chattering, sharing of news, and general nonsense was put to a halt immediately. He stood up with some difficulty.

"Travelers from all around, I beg you to take heed of my words. I am fully aware that this kind of...ah... urgent council has not taken place for approximately one hundred years, but this is indeed very urgent. This is because we have discovered something. It is not a typical plot, not one that is simply some petty criminal trying to take over some world. _This_ is a sinister plot to kill an entire universe, one that we have all heard of and appreciate, that of-"

"Wait!" rang out a nasal male voice. All heads turned to stare at this newcomer. Was he an idiot? _No one_, not even the president or prime minister had he or she been here, interrupted _The Traveler_ when he was speaking, especially at such an important time. _No one_. It was simply unheard of. The red-headed young man rose from his unimportant seat at the long wooden table. "I apologize for my extremely rude behavior. Really, I do. But honestly...I can't let you go on. I simply can't. So it's time for you to go. Now, I'm afraid," the man said, grinning like a madman and sitting down again with his hands neatly folded in his lap and all eyes on him. There was a deathly quiet silence. Then...

"Oh my God!" shrieked some woman. "_The Traveler is dead!" _All thirty-four eyes widened in panic and shock and turned to the lifeless _Traveler_. His blonde head had lolled to one side, and his previously bright blue eyes were now devoid of everything, especially the exigency that usually occupied them. His hands flopped at his sides. It was as if someone had simply flipped the switch that controlled life and death.

Madness erupted.

"What are we going to do?"

"What was _The Traveler _talking about?"

"Who shall be _The Traveler_ now?"

"What _happened _to _The Traveler_?"

"Who the hell was that redhead?"

"_Mind your language! _All of you, stop acting like uneducated, incompetent peasants and use those brains of yours! Instead of running around like fools, let us make plans and decide what shall happen," an old man with hardly any of his noticeable green hair left boomed commandingly.

Eventually, it calmed down enough for the council to continue. Astonishingly, shockingly, but continue it did. It seemed as though no one dared to talk, and many kept glancing fearfully at the place where _The_ _Traveler _had been as if they, too, would suddenly drop dead and evaporate.

The old man cleared his already clear throat and began his impromptu speech. "Now. _The Traveler _is dead. We do not know how. What we do know, however, is that some young fellow with red hair, the only one here with red hair, I might add, is the primary suspect. This particular redhead is nowhere to be found." The old man glared around as if daring someone to get up and assume the identity of the redhead. "_The Traveler _was just about to say which universe was involved in this 'sinister plot' he was just beginning to tell us all about. And now we shall never know what he was talking about, which, I acknowledge, is terrible, and I _do not _use that word lightly.

"I hope we have all assumed by now that this is extremely important, seeing as to the last council that was held was nearly one hundred years ago, and we have all been called here with short notice." He paused, and nobody spoke for a while. "Now, I want all of you to go back home and come back again tomorrow at the same time as today, noon. I understand that many of you are still numb from today's events and the young ones, like you," he nodded at the youngest one, a fourteen-year-old girl sitting stock-still in one of the seats in the table, "haven't the strength to continue normally. Proceed."

Hesitantly, many still in shock and nearly paralyzed with fear as the old man said, the people that occupied the council room filed out. The old man did not leave. Instead, he walked around the room wondering how in the world that redheaded murderer escaped and killed _The Traveler_. The only doors that were open were the ones that he had opened himself, the ones that the people were going out of at this moment. One window hid in the wall, nearly invisible. It was only big enough to crawl through, but he had been standing by it, so, obviously, no one could get out through there. He realized that this narrow-minded thinking would get him nowhere and nearly slapped himself for his foolishness.

Were there any loose floorboards? Any hidden trapdoors he had somehow overlooked? Were they under any rugs? No, of course not; there weren't even any rugs in the room. So where did that killer go? He checked the table, feeling foolish. Perhaps the old man hadn't seen something. Of course not. He missed _nothing_... The overconfident man left, yawning. He would come back later with more council people after a small rest. A decision that would prove to be quite unwise.

One of the first people to be out, a middle-aged man with thinning brown hair, smiled triumphantly to himself when he was a far enough distance from the hated building. He patted one of the many pockets in his bulky coat. Among other things, it contained an expensive red wig.

Many universes away, Captain Holly Short of LEPRecon stopped what she was doing and shivered.

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Don't kill me if it sucks. Sawry! Please review.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **I am not male, do not live in Ireland, am not rich, and am not famous. Do you _think_ I own the characters of Eoin Colfer's?! No! I do, however, own the black-haired person you shall see later.

**Random Notes:** In case y'all didn't know, this is the new edited version of this chappie. Cha.

**Another random note**: My Twilight fic "Edward and Bella For Never?" shall not be updated for a LONG time. Sorry. In case anyone cares.

Now to start the chapter.

* * *

In all the world, there is only one place that has a kind of magical air around it. It is not Paris, or London, or even Tokyo. Indeed, it is Ireland. And it _is _magical. Literally. In one particular part of Ireland, in Fowl Manor, to be more specific, two people were having an argument. One of their first major ones, actually.

"No, Butler, you needn't come. I am telling you, I am a legal adult now. I have handled _much_ worse than this. I do not believe you must come. Who will take care of my siblings? And besides, are you not _retired_?"

The former manservant sighed deeply. "Yes, I suppose you are an adult, Artemis, and I _am_ technically retired. But I still think-"

There was a dangerous glint in the eighteen-yet-still-fifteen-year old's mismatched eyes, a glint that warned Butler not to continue with what he was about to say. Domovoi Butler sighed again. "Very well. I shall call Minerva to tell her that you are on your way now," he said resignedly.

"Thank you for finally seeing reason, old friend. I will tell you what happened later today," Artemis said decisively. Butler sighed for the third time during that particular conversation. He had even been told not to tell Angeline and Artemis Fowl Senior, who were both in Las Vegas for two weeks. They had both left the previous day, leaving Myles and Beckett, both two and a half, in Artemis's "responsible" care.

"Alright, I am on my way now to call her," Butler replied. His huge shoulders slumped slightly as he walked out of the grand doors into the enormous study room of Artemis's. Or maybe Artemis simply imagined it. But no matter. He just _knew_ that he didn't need Butler to accompany him _this time_. Because this day was all for him and Minerva to actually spend time with each other when they weren't experiencing extreme rivalry to capture a supposedly nonexistent demon whose island was in time limbo or experiencing high levels of stress when performing a risky exchange of hostages in Tapei 101, Taiwan. Just a relaxed day with a girl his own age. Sort of.

* * *

"Hello, Artemis, you look quite...dashing," Minerva said awkwardly, examining one of Artemis's many Armani suits and loafers. She then proceeded to study her completely impractical shoes, which were high-heeled and black, with a sudden interest, standing on the carefully well-taken care of walkway leading up to Fowl Manor's imposing entrance.

"Thank you. You look...ah...lovely yourself, Minerva," Artemis replied with a rare smile that was not vampire-like or smug in any way. She did indeed look lovely in her formal outfit that compromised of a pure white blouse with frilly sleeves and a shiny black belt lower down, as well as a completely black pencil skirt. All in all, it was very plain, but also very sophisticated. Her makeup was minimal to "ease the tension," as she convinced herself.

Minerva smiled, now seventy-five percent fifteen-year-old girl nervous with a boy her own age and twenty-five percent stuck-up genius. "Thank you. Where shall we be dining today?"

He grinned deviously at her. "I was thinking of-"

"_Duck!_" Minerva suddenly cried in alarm as she threw herself into a nearby tree.

Artemis was not so lucky. The unfortunate boy genius felt something somewhat hard hit his extremely pale right elbow with immaculate precision. He barely had time to wonder what or who is was before his arm snapped painfully back up, and he instinctively clutched it with a slight wince. Minerva rushed over to him, but not before brushing herself off after she picked herself up from the conveniently placed tree where she lay. Her heels tapped a bit irritatingly on the perfectly paved walkway as she went over to him, standing in slight shock in the same place as he was previously.

"Are you alright?" she asked in concern while critically looking him over.

"Yes, yes, it's nothing. I am fine, just a bit...surprised," Artemis replied. "After all, compared to my other...experiences, this is nothing. Although I'd like to know what it was and who aimed with such accuracy." He looked around as if that could help determine the offender's unknown identity. Perhaps the cameras had caught the throw.

"Well, it came from over there." Minerva gestured to the general area of outside the gates. _How helpful_, thought Artemis sarcastically, but did not voice his thoughts. He scanned the surrounding area with a practiced eye, half-hoping Butler hadn't been looking on and seen the incident. Which wasn't at all likely, as he very well knew. As if to illustrate this point, Butler was suddenly at Minerva's side with a look of concentration and the same suit as before, black and mundane.

"Myles and Beckett are inside asleep...What happened, Artemis?" Butler demanded after muttering his information while doing a bodyguard's once-over on the area, observing that his former charge was still holding his elbow. "What hit you? What was the approximate mass? What was the estimated force? Where did it come from? Did anything hit Minerva? Do you know who the original target was? Why is Minerva seemingly unhurt? How long ago did it occur? Have there been any similar happenings recently? Why are you not answering any of my questions?"

Minerva had stared at Butler in astonishment throughout the whole "interrogation" while Artemis had looked at him patiently.

"What hit me, old friend, was a small, round rock, which is currently lying near my feet. The approximate mass is two point four grams. The estimated force is six Newtons. It came from the vague direction of outside the manor gates. Nothing collided with Minerva, as you can very well see, and the most likely target was I. Obviously, Minerva is 'seemingly' unhurt because nothing hit her. It happened an estimated thirty-five seconds ago. No, I have not been randomly hit with diminutive rocks recently. Must I answer that last question?" Without waiting for a response, Artemis picked up the offending object and examined it. Now, Butler was no geologist, but he knew that that rock was quite an ordinary thing. Very simply put, it was small, somewhat light, different shades of gray, and, obviously, round.

Minerva snatched it out of Artemis's pale hand. Holding it close to her more colored face, she importantly announced, "This is a completely normal rock." As if the two males standing next to her on the walkway hadn't known that. Artemis was barely able to resist the intense temptation to roll his eyes in near exasperation.

"Yes, it is," Artemis said instead. A rather uncomfortable silence ensued. Butler cleared his throat purposefully. "Yes, well, ah...Butler? You may go now. Everything is fine," he said. Butler gave a barely perceptible wink directed at Artemis and walked quickly back into the house to make sure the twins were still asleep and not wandering the grounds somewhere with Artemis Fowl Senior's old and faded Las Vegas boxers tied around their wrists like handcuffs. (It had happened before.)

"Oh...Well. That was...rather strange," Minerva remarked, stating the obvious. Artemis nodded. Somehow, he knew that what just happened was not just-

"Artemis!" Minerva's voice sharply cut through his thoughts. How odd; he actually got lost in thought while he was with her. "As I was saying, before you were somehow hit with a _rock_, where shall we be eating?"

"Eating? Ah, yes. I made reservations at Rainbow Syrup, if that suits your tastes. If not, we can just hack into the system of a better place," Artemis said thoughtfully. "Although I'd rather not do that," he added.

"Rainbow Syrup?" Minerva echoed in awe. "Impressive." Rainbow Syrup, despite the odd name, was the most expensive restaurant that was worth going to in the area. It was also extremely hard to get in there with short-notice reservations. "Of course it 'suits my tastes,' why would it not?" Minerva smiled prettily. "Let's go then, shall we?"

"Of course," Artemis replied with another smile. They proceeded to stroll out of the gates in temporary happiness. The gates opened with an unusual creak as they went through; Artemis vaguely noted that they needed new ones. And off they went to walk to Rainbow Syrup. Why waste fuel when it was a perfectly acceptable distance away?

" 'Fish, dude, this freaking rocks!'" came a mocking, highly insulting, Irish voice some time later. Artemis was imitating the drunken guy in the booth next to them as the two finished up eating. Minerva giggled in a way that was slightly uncharacteristic for her. He smiled, almost a smirk, really, at her as they waited for the check in the dimly lit dining area furnished with high velvet-topped booths all around with glass-topped oak tables. But there was a surprise for them: the manager came purposefully to them.

The manager was a wiry man who didn't look Irish at all. (That explained the restaurant's non-Irish-ness.) His squinty grey eyes scrutinized the two genii as they took in his cheap grey tweed suit and professional-looking shoes, which were probably from the clearance section of a second-hand store. The employees were better dressed than he was.

Artemis calmly folded his hands in his lap. "Yes?" he asked in a slightly bored tone. Minerva glanced at the manager as he spoke; he was staring at Artemis with barely-concealed dislike, boldly treating her as if she didn't exist.

"_Sir_, I am afraid you must leave the premises immediately. No minors are allowed without an adult accompanying them and you, clearly, are both _minors_," he replied commandingly with an air of superiority, saying the word "sir" as if he did not believe it worthy of use for Artemis. What a mistake.

Artemis raised his eyebrows challengingly, not moving, staring at the manager. "Oh, are we? I am eighteen years of age and, _clearly_, we have no reason to move."

The manager looked about ready to explode. Which was a look that seemed to occupy his features quite often, as the nearby servers were hurrying by wordlessly. "Prove it, _sir_," he said in a restrained voice. "As Andrew Flinn, manager of Rainbow Syrup, I have every right to ask this of my customers."

This time, Minerva raised her eyebrows. As she opened her mouth to wittily snap something at the unworthy Flinn, a different voice smoothly interrupted the exchange. A girl, fourteen years of age, with her dark brown eyes looking up at Flinn in derision and wild black hair down to her chest, patted Flinn on the arm with a quiet "shhh." Flinn looked startled as he stared down at the girl, then recognition flickered in his eyes. He quickly concealed it, though the genii caught both emotions with ease.

As Minerva and Artemis watched in a sort of trance, the girl managed to get Flinn away from the two and to another complaining customer.

An indeterminable amount of uncomfortable seconds ensued, and then the two teens' eyes followed their savior, dressed in a simple pair of dark jeans and a plain grey sweatshirt with white Nike sneakers, return to the oak table. They both stared at her in immense incredulity as she dragged a nearby oak chair and made herself comfortable. She spoke in a quiet voice.

"A simple 'thank you' would suffice," she said dryly, "although I don't suppose that'll happen, seeing as to the both of you can't seem to stop staring at me."

Minerva regained her composure first. "Thank you," she snapped rather rudely in all her sophisticated, Minerva-ish glory. She didn't seem to enjoy her presence as much as she should have. But there was something about this girl Minerva didn't like at all. Before she could name it, however, Artemis spoke quite abruptly.

"Do I know you?" he demanded, ignoring Minerva completely. The girl looked surprised, although she spoke smoothly. But she didn't look directly into Artemis's eyes as she answered.

"I don't know, do you?" She folded her hands neatly on her lap and leaned forward rather conspiratorially, forcing the other two to awkwardly do the same. "I suppose you'd like to know who the heck I am, why I did what I did, and why," the girl paused for effect, "I know about your little _excursions _with mythological creatures." She smiled to herself as if at an inside joke the others didn't understand.

Artemis's face was expressionless, but Minerva inadvertently gasped. He resisted shooting her an annoyed glance. There was still something vaguely and disturbingly familiar about this stranger. And that was excluding the face that she _knew_ about them and the People.

_You don't know that for sure,_ came a voice from somewhere inside of him. He decided to listen to it and use a different tactic. But Minerva had other ideas.

"Who are you, then?"

"You _know_ about us?" Minerva screeched simultaneously. Other customers turned to stare at the strange party of teens. This time, Artemis did throw an irritaed glance at her. So much for a different strategy.

The girl smiled again, as if all this amused her. "My name is Meg, and yes, I 'know about you.'" Meg raised a rather flat-shaped eyebrow. "Though that _is_ rather vague, Minerva, don't you think?" An indescribably awkward silence followed.

"Why are you here?" Artemis asked bluntly, breaking the quiet. Both females stared at him. His mind, meanwhile, was working feverishly: he knew that this Meg person didn't mention anything about the People directly, or even Artemis's name- she only mentioned Minerva- but then, why was she acting so strangely? For once in his unusual life, Artemis Fowl the Second had no idea what to expect.

"Oh, this and that, "she replied vaguely. She suddenly became business-like. "I was-"

"Excuse me!" interrupted a different voice, startling them all. Even Meg jumped. It was, of course, Flinn. He came striding back as they all gaped at him. Had he been listening the whole time?

Artemis stood up at once while Minerva did the same. Meg remained sitting but looked up at the others defiantly. "We shall be taking our leave, now, Mr. Flinn. Our check, please?"

Flinn smiled charmingly in a way that was completely contradictory to his earlier actions. "Oh, no need. I am terribly sorry for the previous inconvenience; you are, indeed, eighteen. The meal for the both of you is free." Artemis frowned. As if Flinn could read his mind, he said, "I was reminded that you are _Artemis Fowl_, and, of course, you are eighteen." Before anyone could say anything, he melted back into the aisle and disappeared.

Meg stood up. "Meet me back here tomorrow at noon. If you're not there, well," she laughed humorlessly, "let's just say the world will be terribly sorry." She started to exit the restaurant, but stopped. "Oh, and Minerva- I like your outfit," she threw over her shoulder.

After she was out of sight, Artemis turned to Minerva apologetically. She stared back at him. "I'm afraid I'll have to tell the others about this. I really am sorry." He said it with much conviction. "Although you can come to help explain all of this, of course."

"Yes, I will. Let us proceed," she said, smiling, though with a hint of annoyance at their wasted day.

Before they left, however, Artemis dropped a small black button on the floor and did not pick it up. Minerva noticed, but did not say anything. She didn't need to; she already knew it was a tiny video camera, albeit sophisticated. He had taken it just in case, but knew it was just to do something about the situation. It might not even help at all, as it could (and probably would) simply be taken away when they swept the floor. But he had spent too much time here already; somebody, most likely Flinn, would notice if he went to a different better location.

With the air of people going to court with no evidence and no lawyer, the two genii headed back to Fowl Manor.


	3. Chapter 3

**I AM SUPER SORRY FOR THE LATENESS OF THIS CHAPTER! **_**SORRY!!!**_

**Author's Note: **Well, this is it. I didn't think it'd take _this_ long, but life grabbed me by the shoulders and took me hostage while I kicked and screamed to no avail for a bit.

**Random Notes: **Okay, first of all: Meg was supposed to be all...weird. She'll change right before your eyes, though. Do not fret! And Flinn isn't just some cheap manager. You shall see him again a lot later. This fic actually has a plot, as hard to imagine as that is. (wink)

**Disclaimer:** This fic and its OC's are owned by moi. Arty and the crew are not. Clear enough for ya? I also do not own Azkaban or Harry Potter, which J.K. Rowling owns.

This chapter is very short; I apologize copiously for this.

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A faint wailing could be heard from deep within the walls of Fowl Manor. Of course, these expressions of distress were from the twins eager for attention, but not getting any whatsoever. However, these soon subsided as the twins fell asleep.

"But who is she, Artemis?" rumbled the gravelly tones of Domovoi Butler. "I don't trust her one bit," he continued in misery, which was quite unusual. But, then again, the whole situation was quite unusual.

"We don't know, do we?" Minerva snapped before Artemis could even recover from his slight shock at Butler's show of weakness. Her hands slipped off of the wooden chair, and she moved to where Artemis stood at his computers, hands on her hips in annoyance.

"Guys, calm down," came the voice of Holly Short. "Just go tomorrow, act cool, like you usually do. Relax. Especially you, Minerva," she continued, shooting the irritated genius a look from her spot on the comfortable white sofa in Artemis's spacious study.

Artemis had contacted her immediately, while they had been giving Butler an update. Holly, in turn, had immediately called Foaly from his job at Section Eight. Frankly, the "Meg news" had spread quite fast. Under the earth, that is.

"Of course, of course..." Artemis muttered absently, staring at the blank computer screen. Suddenly, he swiveled in the chair, and his faintly troubled eyes shot up to Holly's composed face. "Just what did Foaly say, Holly?"

LEPRecon's favorite fairy sighed soundlessly. "He didn't take it that seriously. You said she was too smug about the whole thing and actually confronted you," she went on as if it was Artemis's own fault. "Foaly truly believes it's not much. After all, she never mentioned 'fairies' or 'People'. Or anything like that. She only said 'mythological creatures'," she said thoughtfully.

The motley gang was silent for a few minutes, each pondering about different aspects of the situation.

"You know," an oddly familiar voice stated from the doorway. "I'm right here."

Minerva nearly jumped a meter into the air. "You!" she cried out, incredulity distorting her otherwise pretty features. "How did you…get here and…when-?" Her voice, now tiny, trailed off. Apparently, it was still Meg's turn to move her piece on the chessboard of life.

"Artemis," Meg said calmly, directing her gaze from Minerva to the teen seated on the expensive computer chair. "How do _you_ think I got here?" A tense silence- only a few seconds, honestly- ensued in which Meg simply stood leaning against the dark door frame, Artemis and Holly sullenly stayed seated, and Butler hovered cautiously by the narrow window overlooking the numerous trees blocking the view of the manor. Minerva, of course, stood stiffly by Artemis.

Finally, Meg threw up her hands, absolutely exasperated. "Why do you people treat me like I'm some sort of notorious villain escaped from Azkaban?! I'm here to _talk_ to you, not _kill_ you!"

Nobody bothered to answer. Eventually (say, over the course of about five seconds), Meg proudly escorted herself to the sofa opposite Holly and made herself at home, legs on the not-so-cheap upholstery and all.

"So…you never answered my question, Arty," she said. "But I'll tell you, since all of you seem inclined to _ignore_ me as if, like I said earlier, I'm some sort of dangerous vil-"

"That is because you _are_ a dangerous villain!" burst out the shrill tone of one Minerva Paradizo.

Meg put her hands up in surrender. "Relax, Minnie. Do I look like a notorious criminal to you?" In fact, she did not. She looked as though she just walked out of a five-hour trip to Borders, wearing the same outfit she had been earlier, while "Minnie" fumed silently at her uncontrolled outburst and new nickname.

Artemis Fowl the Second grimaced, though from what exactly nobody could immediately determine. He rose up out of his seat as if sleepwalking and dropped himself lightly right next to Meg, though didn't acknowledge her in any way. Instead, he sat twiddling his slender thumbs. Finally, he spoke after about a minute, albeit a very awkward one.

"Alright, Meg. You have played with us for long enough. Why are you here? What do you want?" If Meg felt any surprise at his abrupt directness, her features refused to show it, unlike the other occupants of the room.

"At long last!" Meg cried out in mock delight. "I get invited to talk, not just met by a silence." Now, she was all business. "Artemis, I am here for two reasons. Firstly, to explain to you how I know everything about your little escapades with the People- yes, Holly, I know that you're an elf that isn't shielding right now for unspecified reasons." Here she paused, perhaps allowing Holly to shield, which the pointy-eared female deemed unnecessary. "Secondly, to help you from- to put it bluntly- the real enemy here. The enemy is _not_- I repeat, _not_- me, as hard to believe as that may seem to you all right now."

"Why should we believe a word you say?" asked Butler gruffly as Meg turned her gaze to him. "All evidence obviously points to you as the one to defeat, not anyone else. You could be from anywhere," he finished, learning back on the wall next to the window.

"Ah, but that's where you're wrong, my friend. I-"

But before Meg could finish, Minerva interrupted coldly, "He's not your friend. None of us are."

Meg scarcely contained a sneer forming on her lips in dislike for the other girl. "Fine. But none of you are my enemy either."

"Stop." The quiet command originated from Meg's side. "We must convene in peace, if we want to hear her case." Artemis slightly raised his eyebrows at Minerva and hoped that she received the message. Her reaction: a barely perceptible "hmph" with her arms crossed tightly. He nodded at Meg to speak, though his instinct was to throw her out of Fowl Manor.

"I am not the enemy," she repeated again, just for emphasis. "The enemy is Seth, and possibly his brother Dex." She exhaled slightly, almost wincing.

"Who is this Seth pers-"

"_Shut up! I'm talking!_" Meg clenched her fists tightly, breathing hard and trying very hard not to jump on the French girl and beat her up.

"Sorry," Minerva muttered to the cream-colored carpet. The others, except for Artemis, gaped at Meg as she calmed down. He merely gazed at Minerva in curiosity for her fierce loathing for Meg, which, though he was a genius, could not fully comprehend.

Meg closed her eyes all of a sudden. "I'm sorry. I…can't go on. You all hate me anyway, I'll just…Artemis, meet me tomorrow at Rainbow Syrup. I'm sorry," she repeated, hauling herself up from the couch and exiting the room in a rush.

As soon as she had gone from their sight, Holly stood up. "I'm going to go back to Haven to give Trouble and Foaly an update. This Meg person, to be honest, confuses me," she declared with a furrowed brow.

"I agree, Holly. Let us retire to our respective personal areas and talk tomorrow morning. I must meditate as well," Artemis answered while lifting himself from the couch. Minerva then allowed the others to hear her opinion.

"I concur. But Meg," here Minerva's eyes darkened considerably, "has no place here. We are dealing with something completely out of the ordinary here. I'm just not sure of her…"

Now it was Butler's turn to talk. "Ah, Artemis…I agree with all of you, of course," Butler said quickly, "but I'd like everyone to know that Meg is simply standing outside the gates staring inside."

The two females and Artemis scrambled to the narrow window, which confirmed Butler's befuddled words. Meg seemed to be concentrating deeply on a point no one could recognize, but she wasn't necessarily looking anywhere; it seemed as though she was trying to conjure up an image or something similar, but concentrating mostly in her mind rather than on her surroundings. Her hands flopped limply at her sides, and her black hair blew in the sudden wind.

"D'Arvit, Artemis, what is she doing?" Holly exclaimed.

"She seems so focused," Minerva offered. "What do you think, Artemis?" she enquired. But there was something wrong with him. Butler anxiously examined him, but coming up with only one bedside diagnosis: shock. Not the fatal medical kind, but the emotional kind.

His hazel and blue eyes gazed at Meg, while she kept staring at the point in space no one could see. The elf, former bodyguard, and French genius called out to him worriedly. Both females attempted to slap him, and Butler shook his shoulders as Artemis rocked back and forth.

Artemis's vision was reduced to a blur of purple and gold swirling around him in perplexity. He heard snatches of his name uttered by people he knew, but could not recognize at the time. He felt hands on him and slapping him, and he sensed their worry for him. He did not know what was happening- only that he would not be the same when it ended. But of one thing he was sure: somehow, Meg was doing all of this.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **I'm sorry if this chapter sucks. I tried…It's the thought that counts, right? Right? (wild eyes) Even if it doesn't suck, as such, it has flaws somewhere…I know I'm not _that_ great a writer.

Please read and review, even if you hate me for being SO late. Pwease? Pwetty Pwease? (on knees with wide eyes)

No, Meg does not have magical powers of any kind. Also, she is not a Mary Sue. I took the test for her.

PLEASE PLEASE _PLEASE _tell me any discrepancies. Thank you.


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